


Quite Right, Too

by youwerefantasticrose



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 21:45:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youwerefantasticrose/pseuds/youwerefantasticrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: The Doctor is a beloved children's writer looking for a new illustrator. Enter Rose Tyler.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Oi, Spaceman,” Donna’s voice comes from the intercom. “Your 4 o’clock is here.”

He sighs, running a hand through his already wild hair.

“Alright,” he replies, pressing the button. “Send ‘em in.”

This will be his sixth meeting of the day, and so far none of them have gone well. Maybe his standards are too high, he thinks. But he has a right to them; he is the Doctor, after all, best-selling children’s author. His tenth book couldn’t have just any illustrator. 

 

He’d gotten started several years back, his first book seeming to materialize in the market out of thin air. At least that’s what the critics said. Not that he cared about that. He cared about the kids. And they loved his stories, tales of a lonely alien who traveled in a blue box, visiting strange planets and fighting evil. He penned the stories under his character’s name, as though it was the alien himself telling the stories, loving how the kids reacted. He’s asked often where he’d gotten the idea, and he jokingly says it’s all true; “I’m the Doctor,” he tells them with a grin. He really doesn’t know the answer, though. As long as he can remember, he’s had these stories in his head, had acted them out with his friends as children. He was still pretty much a child himself; he loved the stories as much as they did. Maybe that’s why they were so popular.

So he was protective, that’s all. That’s why each book had a different artist doing the illustrations. He’d yet to find the right one, someone who could capture the pictures in his head. But there had been deadlines, and he’d had to settle, hoping he’d find them next time around. The illustrators he’d had previously weren’t bad, not at all. They just weren’t right.

And it was looking like it wouldn’t be right for this book as well. The five artists he’d met with so far today had been talented, yes, but they weren’t it. And he really wants it for this book.

His door opens then, and Donna, his agent, assistant, and best friend, steps in.

“Well, Donna,” he says, taking off his glasses and cleaning them on his shirt, legs balanced on his desk. “Can’t we get this over with? Where’s this next person? Is it about time to get more of my time wasted?”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Donna smirks, stepping aside to reveal the petite blonde behind her.

He shoots up, knocking down one of many piles of debris on his desk, papers now covering the floor. The blonde smiles, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, obviously amused by how uncomfortable he is. Donna is less subtle, laughing loudly at him as he scrambles to pick up everything strewn on the floor.

“Thanks, Donna,” he says, shooting her a glare. “That’s all.”

She rolls her eyes at him, and motioning the blonde woman foward into the room, she leaves, closing the door behind her. 

“Please, sit,” he says, with a cough, after too long a pause. She suppresses another smile, and for a second he forgets he’s supposed to be talking again, his brain stuck on her eyes and how they crinkle when she smiles.

She coughs politely, and he remembers himself.

“Right, right, sorry. I’m the Doctor, though you probably already knew that, not that I think you should, I’m not really a celebrity, I’m not saying that, I just…”

He stops as her smile grows wider.

“What’s your name, then?”

“Rose,” she says, reaching out to shake his hand. “Rose Tyler.”

He takes it, trying not to notice how warm and soft and good it feels in his; he’s a professional, for God’s sake.

It suits her, he thinks, Rose. All pink and yellow and lovely and he needs to stop, right now, before he loses all sense of dignity.

“Alright, then, brilliant,” he manages, letting go of her hand. He notices the portfolio on her lap (that’s all he was looking at, yes) and remembers why she’s here. “So what have you got for me?”

She hesitates, shy for the first time since she’s walked in, and opens the case, pulling out a stack of drawings. She hands them to him, her eyes on his, and he sees that she’s nervous.

He holds her gaze for a second, then drops his eyes to the page on top of the stack.

He gasps. “Oh, this is brilliant!” He looks up at her, his mouth agape. “This is exactly what it looks like! The coral, the beams, you even got the colors right! No one’s ever gotten it this perfect, no matter how much I described it to them. And the TARDIS interior is so important, especially in this one, and this is just brilliant.”

She flushes at his compliments, and he stares a second too long, before turning his attention to the next drawing.

“Oh, this is lovely,” he says, holding up the drawing. In it, the alien hero hangs from his blue box’s door, suspended in space, his face delighted as he looks at the clusters of star around him. He flips through the rest of the stack, each one more beautiful than the last, and it clicks. 

“Rose Tyler,” he says, and she folds her hands in her lap, eyes wide with nerves. “You are fantastic.”

Her face lights up and his heart beats double time, feels like there’s two in his chest, it’s so loud.

“Would you—” he pauses, nervous. “We could do this book together. If you want.”

She grins, her eyes bright, their hands touching as he gives the drawings back to her.

“I’d love to.”


	2. Chapter 2

“And then he swoops in, defeating the Nestene Conciousness and saving the day!” He ends with a flourish, his hands flying. “So what do you think?”

It’s been a week since he first met Rose, a week since he’d asked her to illustrate his new book. That first meeting had gone for hours, the conversation going from the book to seventies music to the end of the world. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so much. Since that night, they’d taken to meeting every few nights, Donna giving him knowing smiles as she brings in their fish and chips. 

“Getting a lot of work done in these meetings, eh, Spaceman?” she says, eyebrows waggling suggestively. 

“Shut it, Donna,” he hisses, as Rose comes in, smiling at him in a way that makes him feel lightheaded. 

“It’s great,” Rose answers his question, pinching a chip from the plate on the desk, eyes down.

“But…?” he says, suddenly nervous, desperate for her opinion. “What?”

“‘S nothin’. It’s a great story, it is.”

“Rose,” he says, and she looks at him, and his heart suddenly bangs around in his chest, loud, with fear and hope and joy, the feelings that he now associates with her. (After a week, really, Doctor? So much for professionalism.)

“It’s just… Well, the Doctor. I mean, I love him, but…”

He grins at the phrasing, Rose Tyler loves the Doctor, he could get used to hearing that, and she seems to realize it too, her face reddening slightly.

“I mean, everyone does. But he… He can’t always be on his own, yeah? He needs someone.”

“Like a sidekick?” he says, cocking his head to the side, his glasses a little askew.

“More like a…” she searches for the right word. “Companion. A companion. The Doctor is so alone, and that’s gotta be hard, even for someone like him. I think it could make him better. Make him more… human, maybe.”

He’s quiet.

“I mean, it’s your book, it’s up to you, I’m not tryin’ to—”

“No, I like it,” he says. “The Doctor needs someone. It’s brilliant.”

He can’t ignore the parallels here, much as he tries.

“Oh, and there’s so much you could do with it!” he says, forcing himself back to the fictional world. “Could be a best friend dynamic…”

“Or a married couple travelling with him! That could be interesting,” she suggests.

“It could even be romantic,” he says, looking everywhere but where he most wants to.

“Yeah, could be,” she says softly.

They spend even longer talking than usual tonight, discussing this new idea. So much longer that when they get up to leave, it’s almost midnight. 

“Let me walk you home,” he says, his face lit by the streetlight, and she notices how his freckles stand out under the light, how she can see each color in his hair, how much she wants him to walk her home.

“No, ‘s alright,” she says. “‘S not far from here.”

“Rose, I insist. You might need protection.”

She snorts.

“Oi! Don’t question my manliness! Look at my manly, hairy hand!”

He holds it out to her and she laughs, making him pout.

“Oh, fine,” she says. “Come on, then.” 

He grins, and they begin to walk, the Doctor almost skipping.

“So tell me, Rose,” he begins. “How long have you been drawing?”

“Long as I can remember,” she answers. “Never thought I’d get paid to do it though.”

“What were you doing before me? Before now, I mean, before the book, that is,” he babbles, running his hand through his hair. Smooth, Doctor. Very smooth.

She looks at the ground, embarrassed. 

“I worked at Henrik’s,” she says.

“The department store with the creepy mannequins?” he asks.

She looks up, laughing. 

“That’s the most prominent facet of Henrik’s to you? The mannequins?”

“Welllll, yeah. What else is there?”

She looks him up and down, and he stops.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothin’. Just explains your fashion sense.”

“What? This suit is brilliant!”

“It is,” she says. “But you do wear it a lot… In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything else. ” She smiles teasingly, her tongue touching the corner of her mouth.

“I am offended, Rose Tyler,” he says, putting on a fake pout, trying not to think about what he’d like to see her in. She just laughs, starting to walk again. He chases after her, his coat swinging.

“And what about my coat, Rose? Is it not stylish?”

He swings his arms and his hand brushes hers. 

His breath catches at the sudden warm touch of her skin, and he’s about to pull away, apologize, when she looks up at him, her eyes bright, smile aimed right at him. He smiles back, and heart racing, reaches for her hand, twining it with his. 

He swings their hands between them the rest of the way to her flat, chattering a million miles an hour, making her laugh, a grin spread across his face. She smiles back, and he thinks that her hand fits in his perfectly, like they were made for each other, and it’s silly, he knows, but he doesn’t care.

They reach her flat much quicker than he wishes, and he’s suddenly nervous, walking her up to her door, throat dry like a teenager on a first date. 

She pulls out her keys, then turns to face him.

“Fish and chips on Friday?” he asks, and she nods.

“We can figure out how the companion relationship will be then, yeah?” she says, and he nods back, for once at a loss for words.

They both stand there for a moment, like they’re waiting for something, and then he’s reaching out, like he’s not in control of his own body, and his arms are wrapped around her, and he’s holding her, her face buried between his shoulder and neck. He feels her arms go around him, and it’s warm and sweet and perfect, just right, and he wishes he could hold on forever. But she steps back, smiling at him again.

“Good night, Doctor.”

“Good night, Rose.”

Romantic, he thinks as he walks away. Definitely romantic.


	3. Chapter 3

“What’s on the agenda, today, Miss Noble?” he says as he walks in, grinning at her.

She rolls her eyes at him. “Got a couple things for you. First, that bloke Adam Mitchell called again. Wants an interview.”

He makes a face.

“Second, the deadline for the first draft of the book is getting closer, so I hope you’re making progress. And thirdly, how are things going with Rose?”

 

He looks up at her, surprised, and she smirks at him knowingly.

“Donna! Rose and I are just working together.”

“Yeah, and I’m actually the most important person in the universe,” she says, crossing her arms across her chest. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“Welllll…”

She smacks him on the arm, and he glares at her.

“Come on, Doctor. I see the way you look at each other.”

He perks up at that. “How does she look at me?”

Donna laughs. “See, you can’t hide anything from me.” He adjusts his glasses, and she shakes her head at him. “So what are you gonna do?”

“Do?”

“Oh, come on. You’ve got to do something; sitting in your office until the wee hours of the night is not exactly the height of romance. You’ve got to ask her out! Tell her how you feel!”

He blushes, actually blushes, at the thought of it. 

“Oh, she knows,” he says, remembering their hug the other night, not for the first time that day. 

“Does she now? So you’ve said something?”

He runs his fingers through his hair nervously.

“Does it need saying?”

“Yes, it does, you dunce.”

“But, Donna, I—”

“No buts, Doctor. You’re a grown man; you should act like it.”

He pouts, and she rolls her eyes again, turning away as the phone rings. He knows she’s right, he does.

He spends the rest of the day arguing with himself instead of getting any actual work done. On the one hand, he shouldn’t. They do work together, after all. And what if she doesn’t feel the same? But he thinks of her smile, the way she laughs at him, how her hand feels in his. How he feels with his arms around her. He shakes himself mentally. He’s a professional, remember? Sod it. He’s gotta decide something, somehow. He even tries to make a pros and cons list on his computer. 

Pros: Rose, we work well together, Rose, she’s lovely, Rose, it could go well, Rose, her smile, Rose Rose Rose Rose

He gets a little carried away.

A few hours later he emerges from his office, hair sticking straight up, a big smudge on his glasses, eyes blazing.

“You alright?” Donna asks.

“I’m going to do it. Tonight,” he declares.

Donna grins. “Lovely. She’ll be here in an hour.”

&&&

Two and a half hours later, she hasn’t shown up. He’s sprawled out on his desk, his glasses perched on top of his somehow-even-messier-than-before hair. Donna’s long gone, having tried to reassure him before she left that Rose was probably just running a bit late.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thinks, groaning into the pile of papers his face is buried in. What was he expecting? Happily-ever-after? He wasn’t really The Doctor, much as he liked to pretend.

“Doctor?”

He lifts up his head and there she is, breathing hard, face flushed, blonde hair a mess.

“Oh, Doctor, I’m so sorry, I’m so late. Please don’t hate me.”

She steps toward him and then stops, wringing her hands. “I had to deal with my mum, and then everything went to hell, and it was just—”

He stands suddenly, and she stops talking, eyes wide.

He steps forward, closing the space between them, and with a split second’s hesitation, he leans down and presses his lips to hers. She’s still for a moment, and he almost pulls away, his mind raching (oh, god, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry CHILDREN’S AUTHOR SUED FOR HARASSMENT, NOW HOMELESS, that’ll be the headline, he can see it clearly).

But then she’s kissing him back and it’s better than he imagined, sweet and soft and Rose and oh, he loves her. His hands find her face, and she sighs gently, her arms going around him.

He pulls back reluctantly after a moment, and looks at her, her eyes still closed, small smile on her pink lips. She opens her eyes and looks at him, her grin widening, eyes sparkling.

“I should be late more often.”

&&&

He gets home very late that night (actually, very early in the morning) and writes the whole book in one sitting. 

It’s called Rose.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s been a few months now, and they’re busy on a press tour, traveling about promoting the just-released book. 

A whole two weeks of car rides, book shops, autographs, and sneaking into each other’s hotel rooms late at night.

It’s Donna’s idea that they keep their relationship private. The Doctor’s ready to shout it to the heavens (and he’s done it a few times, as they’re walking late at night, suddenly shouting “I love Rose Tyler!” while she laughs and tries to shush him). 

“It’ll just get a lot of attention you don’t need,” Donna tells him. “You write for children, you don’t need rumors about your love life in the press. So keep your hands to yourself, at least in public, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says cheekily, reaching over to the chair next to him and squeezing Rose’s knee.

“Bloody hell, you could at least wait until I leave the room,” Donna says, fighting back a grin.

“Then get out, would you?”

She rolls her eyes, but shuts the door behind her.

Rose grins at him, and he grabs her hand, pulling her onto his lap. He wraps his arms around her, and she leans down, pressing her lips to his.

“She’s right, you know,” Rose says, after pulling away. “We should be discreet.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” he grins. “But where’s the fun in that?”

&&&

“Thank you so much,” a little girl squeaks, clutching the newly-signed book to her chest.

“You’re very welcome, Amelia,” the Doctor says with a wink, and she blushes.

“Bye,” Rose says, with a wave and a grin, as the girl skips off. “So adorable!”

She turns to the Doctor, and her smile falters when she sees the look in his eyes.

“I missed you last night,” he says quietly, hand slipping onto her leg under the table.

She blushes, looking at the line in front of them, where a group of children and their parents are jostling to see who’s next at the signing table.

“Me too,” she whispers, running her hand over his and turning it over, lacing their fingers together. “I ran into Donna on my way to your room, and I couldn’t fool her. Wouldn’t dream of trying, actually.”

He nods absentmindedly, eyes falling to her lips.

“Doctor,” she says, looking over at the children pointedly. 

“Right, right, of course,” he pulls his hand out of hers and turns forward with a grin, running a hand through his hair.

“Alright, who’s next?”

&&&

Several hours later and a few hundred signatures later, they’re down to the last child, a little boy named Rory. They sign his book, chatting with him for a few minutes until he leaves with his mum, smiling and waving back at them.

“That was fun,” Rose says with a tired smile, leaning back in her chair in a stretch.

His eyes follow the movement, looking at the few inches of stomach she exposes as she stretches. She grins at him, then coughs deliberately, and he jumps, eyes meeting hers. 

“Public, remember?” she says, standing, and he follows suit.

“Yeah, I know,” he replies, but he grins mischievously and her breath catches. He turns away, walking further into the store, looking back at her over his shoulder. She looks around, and sees Donna still talking with the owner of the bookstore, hands gesturing wildly. She seems busy enough, she thinks, and she turns to follow the Doctor.

He walks all the way to the back of the store, stepping into an alcove made up of two shelves. She steps in after him. He’s closer than she anticipated, and she bumps into him. He grips her waist and leans in, breathing into her ear.

“Little less public, eh?”

She swallows hard, nodding, his hair tickling her cheek.

He spins her around suddenly, pressing her into the shelf, his lips going against her throat. She stifles a moan, her hands threading into his hair, eyes closing as he presses his body against hers. She hums in pleasure, and he pulls away, his dark eyes meeting hers. She grins at him, and he leans in, kissing her roughly.

His hands slip from her waist, going lower, and he pulls at her leg, hitching it up so it’s wrapped around his waist. Her tongue finds his, and he moans, pressing into her harder, and—

“Look, Mummy, it’s the Doctor!”

They break apart, bodies still pressed together, panting. A little boy is pointing at them with wide eyes, his mother standing behind him, hands on her hips, glaring at them.

“Sorry, sorry,” the Doctor says, stepping away from Rose, running a hand through his wild hair. He grins sheepishly at the woman. “Really, ma’am, we were just—”

“Manager!” she yells.

He turns to Rose, grabbing her hand.

“Run!”

&&&

When the tour’s over and they’re back home, they start planning the next book. 

“The companion storyline has gone over well; we should continue that, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Definitely.”

“Rose has been a hit,” he says with a grin.

She blushes.

“And how long is she gonna stay with him, do you think?” he asks, eyes on hers.

She smiles.

“Forever.”


End file.
